You Smoke
by Victor Bride
Summary: ConWorth drabble, with much use of bad language. Conrad chews Worth out for smoking.


"..Tha's it?"

"What! That- That's _it_! You're a _doctor_. And you _smoke_!"

And here they were again. Hanna had decided that a run-in with the ghost of a werewolf clan leader would be an adventure, perhaps an easy mission since this ghost seemed dormant. When they arrived at the graveyard, they discovered it was only dormant because it was trapped by a seal. As soon as Hanna lifted the cursed seal, since he'd been tricked into it by the ghost, he had gotten a face full of plasmatic paranormal monster.

Now, here they were, back to the back-alley clinic to get Hanna patched up. And since Carmichael- the name Hanna had last dubbed his zombie before he fainted- refused to leave the operation table that his partner laid on, Conrad was dealt the occupation of begrudging banter with his least-favorite medic on Earth.

"Awh, Connie, dun get yer pan'ies inna twist," the back-alley doctor cooed snottily, chapped mouth clamped tightly on a live cigarette. He slid off his white, fur-lined coat in a fluid motion so that it fell limp onto the backseat of his chair.

Or, at least, what looked like a chair- Conrad was under the impression it had once been a table, from how rickety and shoddily-built it appeared to be. To prove his point, the wooden seat creaked uneasily when Worth took up residence on it, a relaxed puff at his lips.

Soon, the sigh and smoke tangled together in Worths "front office" room, above in a gray cloud of instant-cancer which floated near the ceiling, but still close enough to greatly irritate Conrad. Vampires might not necessarily need to breathe but it really seemed entirely unhealthy, in a place where people- strange and altogether mad people like Hanna- went for medical attention. Not very doctor-ly at all.

"S'not tha bigguh deal, Princess," Worth grumbled and waved a dismissive hand, then sucked another death-warrant from the deceivingly innocent stick between his untrimmed fingers. At that brush-off, Conrads expression, he hoped, was aleast incredulous of if not disbelieving in the mans stupidity. In all honesty, he really should have been angrier about the jab at his masculinity, but he passed it up to instead argue with Worth. He could punch the backwards physician later. He had a serious debate on health to win.

"Not a big deal. Really? Do you have any idea how hazardous second-hand smoking is?" The doctor smirked and looked about ready to make smart-ass retort, but Conrad beat him to it. "A _lot_, Worth. A lot. And, you're a doctor, for some unfathomably impossible reason. A person who is supposed to, by their distinct job title, aid patients with health issues, not create _more_ for them to worry about. How the hell is that not a big deal?"

Worth lazily stared back at the one-fanged OCD vampire from across his desk, elbows on the counter and chin rested on laced hands. The entire show performed in that rant had amused the scarred man to no end and the livid scowl Conrad sported afterward was hysterical. His arms had flailed, he had danced in a half-circle at one point in demonstration, and he put his hands on his hips at least twice in rage. In fact, he had them there now and had yet to pick up on how feminine that was.

It caused Worth to chuckle and smile. He didn't bother to hide the noise or the genuine sign of happiness, but they were inadvertently muffled and disguised by digits that held the cig loosely in place. Conrad missed the others mirth at his own oblivious expense and went on in detail, since his counterpart had shown no clear evidence of disagreement or feedback.

"I mean, I know I shouldn't be surprised, since it's _you_, but all doctors that I've met are generally in a consensus against smoking." Conrad crossed his arms and glared pointedly at the older male, unimpressed, "I thought you might at least show that much tact, but apparently I was wrong. Christ. Do you even fucking _know_ what cancer is?" Worth grinned wider from behind his wrist and observed casually as the pissed off Vamp paced as he rambled. The other only paused momentarily to fix his incessant irritation with a ragged half-glare. It was more adorable that Worth would have readdily admitted.

"I can't begin to imagine why people like you smoke cigarettes, anyway."

This caught Worths attention.

"Have y'ever tried one, Confag?"

Conrad seemed to jerk out of his nag-fest. Startled and not sure he'd heard Worth right, Conrad floundered to find something intelligent to say, but he ended up with a befuddled, "_Huh_?"

Worth smirked and removed his hand to puff a large ring of gray smoke at the shorter. Conrad spluttered and batted the remnants away irritably. Eventually, the doc repeated himself, curious, "I said, y'deaf vampire faggot; have y'ever blown a fag 'efore?" He tapped the end of his cigarette on the edge of a cracked glass dish to dispose of the excess ashes.

Conrad gawked at him as if he'd sprouted two heads, not comprehensive of the question, so the doctor amended as an afterthought on his slang, "Feh, a fag's a cigarette, Connie. Have y'ever hadda cigarette?"

The vampire gathered his mistake in translation and his mouth formed a mute 'o' of recognition. If he'd had real blood to pump into his cheeks, he would have blushed. Lucky he didn't, though, that would have given Worth right to mock him for who knows how long. "Er, of course that's what you meant. Of course."

Worth blinked expectantly, then swung his cigarette-hand back and forth to coax Conrads answer out. The back-alley doctor could torture the faggot vamp later about faltering at the original, more flamboyant thing he'd thought he'd been put to.

Conrad straightened the hem of his left sleeve and flattened the few wrinkles he had gotten in his shirt. "For your information, _no_," Conrad jostled his shoulders stiffly, "I have never tried smoking before. People I hung out with in High School and College did, but..."

The chain-smoking blond seemed to brighten at this despite Conrads hesitance to continue. "Awh, well, we can' 'ave tha', n'can we? Everyone should try a'least once, s'right of passage." He flicked open his fresh carton, plucked one from the pack, and proffered it to the undead man. His sleezy smirk wrinkled and his tired eyes glinted with the hint of challenge. "Smoke up, Connie," it wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand, and that was why Conrads temper flared in a second. The doc's insults he was used to, but that unmistakable bossiness was distinctly harder to over-come without a fist-fight. He'd only stopped his habit of attacking Worth because it got to the point where the other actually enjoyed it. Masochistic as Worth was, he wasn't a push-over by any standards.

The cigarette hung at the tips of Worths fingers, basically assigned to Conrad.

"...Shit, s'not like it'll _kill_ ya, fer fucksake. Yer dead as i'is, y'bloody fairy."

"Fuck you," he spat, upset at both Worth and his words. And although he didn't want to admit it, Conrad saw the doctors point. He grimaced and stepped forward, swiped the cigarette, then placed it experimentally to his pursed lips. Worth grinned and twirled a neon green lighter in his hand, which Conrad also tore from him with a raw attitude.

After a few quick clicks of the mechanism inside, and a few attempts to get the flame high enough, Conrad had the cig ready. One long inhale later, he thumped a fist and his chest and coughed loudly as the smoke burned his lungs. He didn't need them to breathe, but they still could function, and they still have nerves.

Worth guffawed, slapped his knee, utterly entertained, and the gnarled chair beneath him rattled and squeaked at the sudden movement. Conrad did not seem to get the joke. Mostly because he was the joke. The vampire threw his slightly burnt cigarette at the doc's face and tossed down the lighter onto his desk.

After a minute or two, an uncomfortable silence descended, in which Worth took a drag of his cigarette and Conrad brooded.

The back-alley doctor was the first to interrupt it.

He smiled deviously, "Bu', while we're on'a subject, _have_ y'ever blown a fag 'efore?"

* * *

THAT'S IT. I'M DONE. FFFFF.

Review and I'll love you.

Sorry if I messed up Worths accent, this was my first shot at it... gggrrrrrnnnggghhhhh...

LATES MAH PEEPS. THANKS TO YALL FER READIN.

(May or may not continue.)


End file.
